Son’s Revenge

“Hello, Kyr Raptor, you wished to speak to me?”

Retvik used to fear Phovoula, the head manager of the Great Dessaron Battle Arenas. After all, she had given him a job when no one else would, and, for a long time, Retvik knew that if he stepped out of line, he’d end up on the streets. Even when he became a famous house fighter, he still feared the Raptor somewhat. Now that Retvik was a Triumphant Champion and had the second longest win streak ever, that fear had evaporated. Especially since they both knew that Retvik had made Phovoula very rich.

“I did, yes. Please, come in.”

Retvik did as he was told and sat down at the desk in front of the Raptor. She was busy looking something up on her laptop.

“I got a phone call from General Kaiga about five minutes ago. They said that a General came by, demanding to know where you were, so they could meet with you. General Kaiga told this person that you are a house fighter under my jurisdiction, and informed me of everything. Retvik, please tell me, who is Revan Rethianos?”

“Ugh…” Retvik immediately pulled a sour face. “That… asshole is my, uh, egg layer.”

“You mean your mother.”

“The word ‘mother’ implies that Revan made any sort of effort to raise their three kids, or even visited them occasionally. Yes, us Rethans are more sibling-based than parental-based when it comes to relationships, and we are all shipped off to and raised by the Junior Stratos, but it is pretty painful being the only three kids every weekend who remained at base because their parents did not come to pick them up or even visit.”

Phovoula tilted her head to one side. “Your own mother never even picked you up form school?”

“No.”

“When was the last time you spoke to your mother?”

“Egg layer.”

Phovoula tutted. “Whatever. When was the last time you spoke to Revan?”

Retvik thought to himself. “Hm… Well, Revan did send me a friend request on Genral Talks after Relkir, Rethais and I all got shot, but I ignored that… I think the last thing Revan said to me was an angry statement about how I was a disgrace, throwing my life away so that someone as horrible and pathetic and ugly as Relkir could live, while I was waiting to be told how I would be executed.”

“… What?”

Retvik grunted. “I had somewhat hoped that Revan would step in and tell them not to execute me, but clearly not.”

“Who actually put a stop to the execution then?”

“The Master of Generals, at the request of the Below Twenty Generals. Said that killing me would make the Rethavok look bad.”

“Wow…” Phovoula muttered. “So… how do you want to take revenge on your egg layer?”

Retvik fell silent for a moment. “Hm… Do you have a spare small arena you can fill somewhat quickly? And a Thragger or something I can kill?”

The Raptor smiled. “I do, yes. Give me thirty minutes.”

Finally, after far, far too much effort, someone had finally spoken to Revan and given them what they wanted. A chance to speak to their formerly exiled child. General Kaiga, the person in charge of Rethan gladiators, had kept on being secretive and odd and telling Revan that they needed to speak to the Arena itself. Clearly, they were buying time or something. However, it turned out that the reason why their oldest and strongest kid wasn’t directly open to communication was apparently because they were in the middle of a gladiator battle.

And, amazingly, Retvik had agreed to talk. They just wanted to finish their battle first.

Revan though wondered if something was up as the Ksithan assistant led them down to a small arena. One that was worryingly dingy. And, as they approached, was also covered in blood. Retvik had literally just finished their gladiator battle, and lying in the middle of the arena was a dead Thragger, its head roughly removed and its throat split. Standing atop the corpse was Revan’s oldest kid, in their full Lightbearer gladiator armour, their signature shield holstered on their back and a familiar gunstaff in one hand.

Revan stopped at the entrance to the arena. Something was clearly going on. They had wanted to speak to Retvik in private. But Retvik was standing there, beckoning them to step out.

“Ah, wonderful!” Retvik exclaimed. He was wearing a headset under his helmet, a microphone which projected his voice to the audience, one that was cheering, having just witnessed a slaughter. Now that Revan was slightly closer, they noticed Retvik was holding a second headset too. “My glorious audience, I am glad you are all still with me, because we have a guest! Step out here, please!”

Revan remained where they were.

“Hm. Seems like our guest is a little shy! My audience, do you want to know who our guest is?”

The crowd erupted into cheers, chanting the word “Yes!” over and over.

“Good!” Retvik seemed to smile. “My guest, would you like to introduce yourself, or should I do it for you?”

Things were very suddenly out of Revan’s control. They backed away, into the small hallway leading in and out of the arena.

“Normally, our guest here is far less shy, so I shall do the introductions! Now, I do not know if you all remember, but I have not always been popular among my fellow Rethans. The reason why is simple. I was exiled. For reasons out of my control. As a quick refresher, my full name is Retvik Rethianos. I have two siblings, Rethais Rethianos and Relkir Rethianos. We are triplets. Except we were also part of a bloodline tradition, and you can only have two kids per generation in a bloodline tradition! And do you know what they do to extra kids in a bloodline tradition?”

The crowd fell somewhat quiet, because some of them knew the answer.

“Yes, I understand that quietness. They used to kill them. They normally kill the weakest. But I offered myself in Relkir’s place. My life for Relkir’s. I was going to be killed, until a last minute decision instead forced me into exile.”

Revan tried to edge away further. However, as they turned around, they found the door behind them was locked. There was nowhere else to go.

“Now, I suppose at least some of you are wondering, what did my parents have to say about all of this? After all, my, ugh, mother had three kids. Three beautiful, healthy kids. Sure, Relkir was a bit small, and sure, I was a bit dumb, but we were otherwise fine. Did mother step in, to tell the Rethan Elite to not execute one of their own kids? No.”

Retvik paused and stared at the entrance.

“I have not spoken to my mother in nearly 35 years. The last thing they said to me was that they were disgusted with me. How dare I give myself, so my siblings could live? Apparently the desire to sacrifice oneself to save the lives of others was disgraceful.

“I could have died that day. Relkir or Rethais could have died that day. It is a miracle that I am here, talking to you all. But none of this had to happen! My mother could have stepped in and asked the Rethan Elite, those in charge of the bloodline traditions, to let all three of us live! They did not! They did not CARE that one of their kids was to be killed! They actively left me to die!”

Retvik climbed off the Thragger’s corpse and stepped towards the entrance, just enough so they could see Revan, hiding in the shadows.

“Why are you here, Revan Rethianos? Why are you here, you damn egg layer! Is it to apologize? I very much doubt it! Otherwise you would not be cowering in the darkness!”

Revan didn’t move. They remained with their back against the wall. Their own kid was threatening them. The proud, perfect specimen that they were. Revan had wanted to try and make some amends. But not out here. In private. Retvik wasn’t allowing that, their kid was airing out their broken past in front of an eager audience.

Retvik tutted, then shoved his gunstaff into the ground. “I am sorry, my friends. I was hoping to introduce you to the disgrace that dares call itself my mother. A mother who never, ever cared.”

With a sigh, Retvik began to wander around the arena.

“Unfortunately, not all of us are blessed with mothers that care. Really, a deeply caring and truly loving mother is a foreign concept to me. If you do have a mother or a father that loves you, try to love them back. But at the same time, if they hurt you, if they push you away, then feel free to leave them. People that hurt you, people that do not care about you, they do not deserve to be in your life.”

One last time, Retvik gazed towards the entrance. Part of them had hoped that Revan would step out, to face the crowds, to face the truth. After all this time, maybe Revan had grown a spine and realized they should have acted sooner. But it had been nearly 35 years of silence, of nothing.

“Revan Rethianos, I do not forgive you. I never will forgive you. And I hope Relkir and Rethais never forgive you either.”

The door behind Revan clicked open. Without a word, Revan fled, disappearing into the crowds of fans and tourists, hoping that no one recognized them.

Back in the arena, Retvik smiled to himself. With a final grin, Retvik waved to the crowds, apologized for the lack of action and blood, then headed to the exit to clean himself up. For the first time in a while, Retvik felt good about his painful past. After all, he had survived, in spite of his awful mother.

“I should publicly threaten my evil egg layer more often…” Retvik thought to himself as he wandered off. “That was great…”